


Broken and Bent

by desperationandgin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ache isn't Regina's heart, but her soul. Post 3x22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken and Bent

The ache in her chest was raw and real, and Regina wanted to claw her heart out of herself, wanted to tear at her skin and get it  _out_ , but she knew it wouldn’t help. 

Because the feeling of being ripped in half wasn’t coming from a betrayed heart. 

No.

It was coming from frayed edges beyond her control, something that she couldn’t grasp, an intangible thing that her teacher never taught her how to hold and make yield.

This ache was in her soul and it was bone deep, pooling out into every part of her that could feel. She’d tried alcohol, one full bottle from morning to night, and while she’d been drunk enough to rip the sheets off of her bed that smelled like him, all she accomplished in the end was sitting on a bare mattress at two in the morning, the comforter pressed to her face while she sobbed like an idiot over a man who had a wife.

This was why it was better to be empty and angry and alone, because at least in the past fifty years she hasn’t felt this sort of twisting knot of rejection and self-loathing. Losing Daniel had been gut-wrenching, losing Henry had been heart-crushing. But both times she’d carried on, both times her heart wound up being resilient in the end. This time it was her soul, and she didn’t know what to do that would make the twisting blackness stop.

When she finally ventured out of her house she saw them, like a moth to a flame she didn’t even realize where she was actually going, only that by the time she looked up she was outside of the ice cream parlor and there they were, the three of them, Roland happy and running just ahead, Robin’s hand on his wife’s back. He looked up and she let her red rimmed eyes lock with his before purple smoke engulfed her, sending her back to the safety of the mansion. She didn’t want to see whatever was on his face, didn’t want to see his wife’s disgusted look, but she couldn’t escape quickly enough to miss a tiny voice calling for her,  _'Gina!_ ' before she was gone.

She was standing squarely in front of a mirror when she appeared again, not crying, not shaking, but determined to stop this, to end it, to be who she always had been. Broken but queen, destroyed but functioning. Mother, mayor, strong and refusing to yield. This was what she would always do but now there was no revenge. No curse, no one to destroy. So she would pretend until she was numb, until the pain had its fill of her, and she would make room for the hole she could feel like a gaping wound.

At night, when her time with Henry was over, when the last dish had been cleaned in the kitchen and her paperwork was done for the evening, no matter the facade she’d worn that day she could feel the edges of the scar Robin left in his wake, could hear him telling her about timing and how it had to be right.

It was a joke and she was the punchline.

A month passed of dinners and weekends with Henry, holding the new prince, being endlessly hovered over by Snow.

It was a month before a heavy knock reverberated through her home and she knew, knew whose heavy hand it was and for a moment forgot to breathe. She took her time, holding back, afraid to see what new slap in the face her life had waiting for her. The pounding grew heavier and finally she pushed away from her couch, opening the door.

Blue met brown, red rim to red rim, and she was surprised that he’d been crying, surprised at the thought that perhaps this had been harder for him than she’d thought. Her lips parted but there was no sound before his body pulled to hers and his kiss was a jolt to the weak and tired soul she’d been trying to keep tucked away. She felt alive again, warm and vibrant, and when he pulled away she gasped at the loss of heat and feeling.

"It has to be you."

They were his only words; he chose her and her heart found its place again with his, permanent and strong. She let him see her then, bent and broken, but he was solid and unwavering in his decision.

For the first time in her life, it had to be her.


End file.
